Beauty, in a way, is an essense of ecstacy. The best part is, to
recognise within, that it can indeed bring a tingle
of happiness and freedom, to
breathe in that silence of admiration. I have always wanted to seal them, between
my palms, and put them in a little glass jar. So I can go back to them,
live them, many times more.
When I was young I used to go around catching dragonflies.
There were quite a lot, some flying in pairs,
some on tips of wild grass, their wings glittering under the summer afternoon sun.
I barely caught three or four, collected them in a jar
of twigs and leaves. I still remember admiring their tiny legs holding stones.
I let them out a few hours later.
And weekends in summer were spent in the backyard. Walking about within the compound,
sitting under mango trees. I loved to collect things
and make my own games with it.
Anything from twigs, pebbles and tender leaves; it seems lame now, but
back then, those were my treasures.
I remembered those days when I was in my courtyard yesterday afternoon.
And I am figuring out that the only way to look back at such simple sources of happiness
would be to photograph them.
I love it. To find the best of what I see and capture them
as just as possible, it takes time, in the beginning.
I am learning the fact that there is beauty in everything around.
The whole process has become an inspiration
in many different ways.
I find my personal moments in them. And all I want
is to breathe in the moment.